


Don't Tell Me

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Drama, Romance, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-18
Updated: 2005-12-09
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: While in LA, Justin has a health scare that forces Brian to reevaluate and come to terms with his feelings for Justin.





	1. Night Call

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian had never made it a habit to fantasize about other men while he was fucking someone; he had never needed to. As far as he was concerned, an ass was an ass and as long as he came at the end of the night, all was well. He never wanted or needed anything more. That was until Justin- until Justin left him for Ethan and he felt himself wanting to be with Justin and only Justin. Needing to pretend that he was with his former lover to even get close to getting off, he would- in the ultimate display of pathetic broken heartedness- hire hustlers who looked like Justin or simply imagine that it was his ex writhing beneath him. It was weeks before he exchanged names or numbers again, and almost two months before he would kiss again. Part of it was this strange sense of unfaithfulness that he felt even though he had long since been dumped; the other part was that it ruined the illusion for him to hear a name that wasn’t Justin’s or to kiss lips that weren’t as full or as soft or nearly as sweet.

Pathetic. Just pathetic.

Once Brian and Justin had reunited, fantasizing had again become altogether unnecessary. Everything he could possibly want or need was right beside him, or at least no more than a phone call away. That was until now, now that Justin was living three thousand miles across the country. So Brian secretly resorted to pretending every fuck was his MIA boyfriend.

The trick on his hands and knees tonight was doing okay. Brian was relentless, making him cry out in simultaneous pain and ecstasy as he ripped into him. Having had a little too much to drink and frustrated because he hadn’t heard from Justin in almost a week, Brian was oblivious to the needs of the man in his bed. His soft hand traveled slowly up Nameless-trick’s back, over his neck, and onto his hair. It was short, a buzz cut, much shorter than Justin’s is now. That’s when Brian remembered it wasn’t Justin.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck me!” Nameless-trick groan melodramatically. Brian wondered what the fuck he thought this was. Some cheap porno? A goddamn TV show?

“Shut the fuck up,” Brian told him, as he reminded himself that nothing like this would ever be on television. He laughed to himself and Nameless moaned again. Brian rolled his eyes, but at least the twink wasn’t saying anything.

Brian was less than a minute away from his breaking point, he knew, when his cell phone started to ring. Normally he would have ignored it, waited for it to go away. But he recognized the ring. Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out.” It was Justin.

“Do you mind if I get that?” Brian asked, not caring in the least as he reached over to the nightstand to grab his phone.

“Sure, just don’t stop,” Nameless practically begged. Brian shrugged and picked up where he left off as he opened his phone.

“Hey there, Hollywood.”

“Brian?”

“Who else?”

A slight, nervous laugh transmitted through the phone. Something was wrong. “Right. Uh... I know it’s late over there, did I call at a bad time?”

“Actually, sort of. Can I call you back in five minutes?”

A heavy sigh. “Umm...”

“Just five minutes, I promise. I’ll call you right back.”

That’s went the sobbing started. Violent, relentless sobs that exploded on Brian’s end of the line. Brian was shocked; he hadn’t seen- or heard- Justin crying like this since just after the bashing. Something was terribly, horrifyingly wrong.

“Shit. Justin?” Brian stopped moving.

“I really need to talk to you now. Please, I wouldn’t normally-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Brian told him gently as he pulled out roughly from Nameless. “Just one sec, Justin. You,” he said to Nameless, who had been startled by their quick ending, “out. Now.”

“What? What the fuck?”

“Just get out of my loft, now.”

“Are you for real?”

“As real as they come. Now put on your pants and get the fuck out.”

“Aren’t we gonna finish?”

“Are you kidding? Leave my fucking house!” Brian’s voice had raised significantly, threateningly. “Or I will remove you.”

Rolling his eyes and muttering curses under his breath, Nameless dressed and stormed from the loft. Once the door had been slammed shut, Brian got back on the line. He could still hear Justin’s crying on the other end, but it wasn’t quite as forceful as a minute before.

“So what? What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just. Shit- Brian!” The sobbing picked up again and lasted for a few moments with Brian speechless on his end.

“Justin-”

“God, Brian! I don’t know what to do.” There was a slight slur in the way Justin moaned Brian’s name. That’s when Brian realized Justin too had been drinking.

“Well, why don’t you start by telling me what happened?”

“I- I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just... I’m scared to tell you, Brian.”

“Don’t be. Whatever it is I’ll-”

“I just can’t tell you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Over the phone. I really need you right now. I need you to come to LA. Please.”

Normally, Brian would have just said no without a second thought. Why should he just pick up from his life to go out to LA? He had work to do, business to take care of at Kinnetik. A lifestyle to maintain. But something in the way Justin’s voice was shaking told Brian that the circumstances were anything but normal. That whatever was going on in LA with Justin was bigger and scarier and more immediate than Kinnetik or some fucking image.

“I’ll book a flight tonight.”  



	2. Get To Me

The next night Brian was on a plane to LA. Realizing that he wasn’t getting anywhere with Justin on the phone, he told him to hold on, and that he’d be there as soon as possible. After booking his ticket, Brian spent the rest of the night organizing what had to be done at Kinnetik into a manageable schedule of tasks. He figured he’d leave Cynthia and Ted in charge; he had done it before. The difference this time was that when he went into the office to tell Cynthia he would be taking a trip, his assistant was much more understanding.

“You’re leaving tonight?”

“Actually, this afternoon. Plane leaves at three-fifteen.”

“Where this time? P-Town? Paris? Milan?”

“LA.”

Rolling her eyes, Cynthia huffed her disapproval. “You know, I get that you miss Justin and all, but would it kill to give us a little more notice around here?”

“I would have, but... I think something’s wrong. No- I know something’s wrong. He says he needs me over there and- I just- I have to go. But I put everything together for you and Ted. I trust you guys to take care of this. If there are any problems call my cell phone, and I’ll check in as soon as I get to LA. Sound all right?”

Cynthia nodded as her perturbed glare faded into a concerned stare. “Do you think he’s okay? I mean, will he be all right?”

Brian shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out.”

Smiling gently, Cynthia leaned in and pressed a kiss against Brian’s cheek. “It’s good that you’re going,” she confirmed as she pulled back to look at him. “Bring me back a T-shirt.”

Brian nodded and returned the smile as he packed a few more papers into his briefcase. Four and half hours later, he was on a plane to Hollywood.

Though he never told anyone, Brian was a terrible flier. He hated being so high off the ground when it wasn’t drug induced. The lack of control made him crazy, and he always found a way to break the promise to himself that he wouldn’t have more than two drinks.

When Brian was on his fourth scotch three hours into the flight, the older man sitting next to him chuckled softly. “Nervous flier?”

Brian would be lying if he said he didn’t want someone to talk to right now. “You could say that,” he told him nonchalantly as he downed his drink. “Or you could say I fucking hate airplanes.”

The man smiled and nodded understandingly. Brian gave him a quick look over. He guessed that the man was in his late forties. Good-looking, tall, and well-dressed (Armani if Brian wasn’t mistaken- and he rarely was when it came to designer suits), the man had an ease about him. He was calm, which was something Brian needed to feed off of at that moment. His eyes stopped on the man’s index finger and thumb, which were twisting what looked like a wedding band around his ring finger of the opposite hand.

“Coming or going?” He asked Brian, obviously noting the lull in the potential conversation.

“Coming,” Brian told him. It was too bad they were referring to travelling.

“Ah,” he said, tossing his head back slightly, making for an exaggerated nod.

“How about you?”

“Going. I’m heading home. Business trip in Pittsburgh,” the man explained.

“Yeah, well, why the fuck else would you be going to the Pitts?”

The man laughed again. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not as a tourist, I suppose it isn’t.”

“Yeah, well, I could lie and say that LA won’t be exciting but as a tourist, I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Brian planted his tongue in his cheek and nodded in agreement. He hoped that he would enjoy his stay, but he had a feeling from Justin’s tone the night before that it wouldn’t be all tanning and partying and fucking. Brian’s stomach did a quick flip; he needed another drink.

“I’m Joe Fitzgerald,” he said, extending his hand.

Brian took it and shook. “Brian Kinney.”

“Good to meet you, Brian,” Joe said. Brian wasn’t sure why he appreciated his friendly tone quite so much, but he found an odd comfort in Joe’s warm, blue eyes.

“So, is this trip business or pleasure?”

Brian shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Hopefully pleasure.”

“Would you mind if I ask what that means exactly?”

“I’m visiting a friend.”

“Gotcha. An old college friend or something?”

Brian laughed. “No. A young friend. A much, much younger friend.” Joe looked confused when Brian was the only one finding this funny. Brian couldn’t understand why he was suddenly feeling very open and comfortable with this complete stranger; maybe the alcohol was loosening his tongue.

“My boyfriend.”

“Huh,” was all Joe said in response. He seemed uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry, you can’t catch it,” Brian said, immediately remembering why he so rarely chose to “open up”.

Embarrassed, Joe jumped up in his seat and leaned forward. “No, no. Believe me, I’m not worried about that- it’s just... shit. My fifteen year old son came out to me and my wife a few weeks ago and- this is going to sound really weird but- it was like when my wife was pregnant. All of a sudden I saw pregnant women and babies everywhere I turned. Does that make any sense?”

“Faggots, faggots everywhere.”

“If that’s how you want to put it, I guess. I just mean that it’s more in my consciousness now. I hope this isn’t all coming out as badly as this seems to be coming out. It’s just funny is all.”

“I suppose. Did it freak you out?” Brian asked, knowing that he probably shouldn’t.

“Not really. I mean, I think I’ve known for a while. My wife was pretty stunned, but she got over it.”

“What did you do when he told you?”

Joe shrugged and looked down at his wedding ring, which he was still fidgeting with. “What could I do? He is what he is. I told him that I don’t give a crap, and it took a few days but my wife came around. I mean, he’s my son- you know?”

He knew too well. “I have a son.”

“Yeah?”

Brian nodded. “Almost four.”

“Huh. You just looked too young to have kids.”

Sitting up slightly, Brian grinned. “Joe, you are my new best friend. Can I buy you a drink?”

Joe laughed. He seemed to do that a lot. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“So, is your son your only child?”

“No. He’s my youngest, can you believe it? Trina’s seventeen, a senior in high school, and Matt, my oldest, is twenty-one, about to start his last year at Stanford.”

“Impressive,” Brian said as he realized that this man’s oldest son was Justin’s age. This wouldn’t have been quite so funny under normal circumstances, but something about being on a plane made Brian an utter lightweight.

“I’m sorry, I missed the joke,” Joe told him as he watched Brian chuckle in his seat.

“No joke. It’s just that your oldest is the same age as my boyfriend.”

“Really? Is that very much younger than you?”

“I like to pretend it isn’t.” Joe got the joke this time.

“So, what’s he doing out in LA? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Believe it or not, he’s working on a movie.”

“Oh yeah? Is he an actor?”

“No. An artist.” A fucking amazing artist.

“Oh wow. So he’s doing sets and stuff or-”

“Assistant art director or something, honestly, I don’t even know.”

Joe smirked. “I see. Well, it sounds like this trip should be less business than you made it out to sound like when I asked.”

Looking out the window, Brian watched as the wing of the plane jerked and jolted and managed to keep this massive hunk of metal thousands of feet above the earth.

“We have a very turbulent relationship.”

“Gotcha. And believe me, I know what that’s like. It’s what happens when you’re married to someone for almost thirty years.”

Brian’s head jerked back around to face Joe. “We’re not married,” Brian said a bit too quickly.

Joe shook his head calmly. This man was so fucking calm. “Never said you were, Brian.”

Brian apologized for his defensiveness. “I’m just not a marriage kind of guy. Always sort of hated the institution, as a matter of fact.”

“Damn, you sound just like my younger brother,” Joe said, shaking his head. “Exactly like my brother, until he met his wife that is. Strange what love can do to a man, huh?”

Brian snorted in forced disgust because Joe was absolutely right. “You know, Joe, love is a four letter word.”

Laughing, Joe nodded. “That it is.”

“So what reminds me of your brother so much?”

“Well, my younger brother, Sam, he was a bit of a playboy. Actually, a big playboy. Different girls all the time, never had an actual girlfriend for more than a week.”

“I know the type,” Brian said with a nod. “Go on.”

“Sam would denounce marriage till he was blue in the face. Was horrified when I got married myself, fortunately he got over it. Anyway, he would mess around and never got even remotely serious until he met Ramona.”

“His wife?”

“Now she is. But not without a fight. Sam was completely and utterly head over heels for this woman. I mean, beautiful, smart, funny, successful. Older, too. That’s how a I knew he was serious, you know. He always went for younger girls, girls who wouldn’t have as much of a chance against his charm. But something about Ramona just drew him to her- moth to a flame and all that. And man, did he ever get burned.”

“She rejected him?”

“In a big way. I had never seen Sam in such a state. He mooned over this girl, followed her around. I mean, it wasn’t like he was stalking her, but he just wanted to make it clear that rejection after rejection wouldn’t turn him off or change his mind.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar,” Brian said nonchalantly, silently squirming inside at the similarities.

“Anyway, she finally agreed to go out with him if he promised to leave her alone, and next thing you know, they’re dating! My brother- in a serious relationship. My mother thought she had died and gone to heaven. Now- twenty years later- they’re living in a loft in Tribeca with their eight-year-old son.”

“Sounds like the perfect life,” Brian mused, staring at his empty glass. Maybe he should get another.

Joe choked a laugh. “Hardly. About three years into their relationship, before they had gotten married, Ramona slept with another man while on a business trip. She admitted it as soon as she got back, and Sam was devastated.”

“But...”

“But they worked it out. They loved each other to know that we’re all human. And as humans we all make mistakes, and we need to be open to the idea of acceptance and forgiveness.”

“My boyfriend cheated on me once,” Brian blurted out. Maybe another drink wasn’t such a good idea. “Shit, sorry. I’m usually not so open with strangers. Or friends. Or anyone, really.”

“Maybe it’s because you’ll never see me again?”

“I’m hoping so. Or maybe I’m just nervous.”

“Oh?”

“I haven’t seen Justin- that’s-”

“Your boyfriend.”

“Right- in almost three months. We haven’t seen each other since he left to work on the movie.”

“I see.”

“And now I’m flying out last minute because something’s wrong. I don’t know what.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah,” Brian whispered. “Me too.”

Brian’s stomach turned itself into another knot as he replayed last night’s conversation over in his head. What he could remember anyway. He hated to admit that it was terrifying, because that meant something was severely wrong, and Brian didn’t want to face what it could be. Every awful possibility trampled through his brain and just when he though of the most horrible thing that could have happened, another dreadful event stormed into his mind. What could be so bad that Justin couldn’t bring himself to tell Brian over the phone?

“A movie’s coming on.”

Drawn from deep within his reverie, Brian looked up. “What?”

“An in-flight movie is starting,” Joe informed him. “I thought you might be interested.”

“Oh, okay. I think I’ll pass and just... take a nap.”

“Sounds good,” Joe said with a smile. Just as Brian was about to roll his head onto the uncomfortable airplane pillow, Joe called his attention. “Hey, Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re probably not looking for advice right now, and if I’m out of line, just let me know. But if I’ve learned anything from being in a relationship for almost three decades, the best thing you can do when someone you love has problem- I mean a real big problem- is to just ask what you can do. Don’t force anything or try to manipulate the situation, just be there to give them what they need.”

Brian absorbed this as he leaned back into his chair with a sigh. “Thanks, Joe. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sleeping restlessly through the rest of the flight, Brian awoke when a stewardess informed him that he would have to lean his seat forward and buckle his seatbelt in preparation for landing. Brian did as he was told and braced himself- the ride was almost over. Looking down at his watch, Brian saw that it was a little after eight. He opened his window and was blinded by the glare of the sun off of the wing.

“The fuck?” He swore and covered his eyes.

Joe looked over and raised his brow. “Everything all right?”

Brian shook his head. “Three hour time difference. Sun’s still up.”

“You have a lot of trouble with jet lag?”

“Not usually. I’m not a big sleeper.”

“Gotcha.” Joe looked out the window, avoiding the glare. “I love this part. Take-off and landing, it’s exciting, dangerous.”

“I hate it,” Brian admitted with a snarl. “I hate planes.”

“Well, I hope that this trip- this Justin guy- is worth the torturous flight.”

Brian almost admitted that he was. That there was nothing he’d rather be flying to or for. Sometimes, he thought Justin was worth everything. Money, pride, the loneliness he had felt for the past few months. Justin was living the dream while Brian was dreaming of him. Somehow, that didn’t seem fair.

The plane landed smoothly and Brian was all too thrilled to be getting off. Once he was in the terminal he stretched and looked around. Joe was still next to him.

“Well, I’m off. It was a pleasure to meet you, Brian.”

Brian took Joe’s hand for the second time that day and felt a genuine warmness toward the man. “You too,” he said, pulling a business card from his back pocket. “Next time you’re in Pittsburgh, I’ll buy you a drink.”

With a smile and short wave, Joe walked off in one direction as Brian followed the signs to where he was supposed to exit LAX. It had been almost a decade since his last time in LA, far too long. All those times that Justin told Brian over the phone that he would love Los Angeles, Brian could never bring himself to admit that he already did.

When he reached the end of the gate, Brian saw a man dressed very much like a limo driver holding a card that read “Mr. Kinney.” Smirking, Brian approached him.

“You looking for me?”

“Are you Brian Kinney?”

“The one and only.”

“Right this way, sir.”

Brian chuckled. “My pleasure.”

After putting his suitcases into the back of the car, Brian slid into the limo, eyes closed. He started when he crashed into another body. Smiling, he opened his eyes and pulled off his three hundred dollar glasses for a better look. Brian knew that there was an ear to ear grin growing one that Justin was wearing, but he couldn’t care less. He examined his boyfriend’s face for signs of crying or hysteria, but there were none. Whatever it was seemed to melt away now that the lovers had been reunited.

“Hey, you,” Brian said quietly. Justin threw his arms around Brian’s neck and held on as though his life- both of their lives- depended on it.

“How was your flight?” Justin asked in between the kisses that he was spreading all over Brian’s face and neck.

“It got me here, didn’t it?” He asked, hands travelling to Justin’s face so that he could press their foreheads together, then their lips.

“It got me to you.”

The crying started again.  



	3. Strange Condition

By the time Brian and Justin reached Brett’s pool house, Justin had stopped crying. All he had to show for it was a runny nose and puffy, red eyes. The chauffeur helped Brian carry his bags inside. He thanked the man, who excused himself quickly, obviously feeling awkward in their given situation.

“That’s not exactly how I imagined we’d first see each other after all these months,” Justin admitted with a nervous laugh as he wiped at his nose with his sleeve. Brian thought he looked ten years old when he did that, which was strange since he had come to expect such maturity from his much younger lover.

“Yeah, me either,” Brian agreed as he placed his carry-on onto the floor. It was a response to the first coherent thing Justin had said since the violent sobs took over his body in the car. Brian tried to get Justin to calm down, holding him, telling him everything was all right when he didn’t know what was wrong in the first place. He was annoyed and frustrated, but most of all he was concerned.

“I wish you would tell me what was wrong,” Brian told him now that Justin was of a somewhat sounder mind.

Justin shook his head. “Not just yet. I want to have one day with you first. Do you think we could have just one day?”

Brian prepared himself for an argument but couldn’t find it in him. Though he was irked and anxious, he couldn’t help but want to just spend time with Justin. It had been three long months. Brian was desperate to know why he had flown out to LA, but more he just wanted to hold Justin, to touch him.

“Fine,” Brian agreed. “One day. But then you have to tell me why I’m out here and why you’re so hysterical.” Brian bit his lower lip and planted his hands on his hips. “You’re really freaking me out.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll stop with this ridiculous sobbing for at least twenty-four hours so that we can just enjoy some time together.”

Smiling mischievously, Brian nodded his agreement. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Justin’s waist, pulling him in to kiss him. Justin was welcoming at first, but abruptly pulled away just as Brian reached for his belt.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Justin wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Brian didn’t like it; it made him feel dirty.

“Nothing I’m fine.”

“Then why’d you stop. Because in my image of our enjoying our time together, you have no clothes on and I’m fucking you senseless.”

“Later,” Justin said, but the lack of confidence was apparent in his voice. “That’ll come later.”

“We _could_ start with rimming,” Brian suggested. “And I kind of wanted to come now.”

When Brian approached him, Justin put his hand against his lover’s chest. “Later, I promise. It’s just- I really wanted to show you some of the sights first. Please?”

“What sights did you want to show me exactly? It’s after-” Brian checked his watch and subtracted three hours, “seven, already.”

“I just thought we might go out to dinner, that’s all. I’m starving.”

“What else is new?”

Justin smiled and punched Brian’s shoulder playfully. “Then Brett is having a party as his place tonight and I thought we could stop by.”

Brian gave in. This was Justin’s town after all. “All right, all right. After I unpack a little, we’ll go to dinner. But you’re paying.”

Justin laced his fingers through Brian’s. “It would be my pleasure.”

“Pleasure- I hope- being the operative word.”

~*~

Brian had to clench his jaw to keep it from dropping when he walked into Brett’s mansion. He had seen beautiful buildings, houses, apartments- hell, he lived in one. But something about this place was utterly breath-taking. Maybe because it was such a cliché. What else had Brian so dumbfounded was Justin’s total ease when walking into the place, as if he had been doing it all his life. Something about this chilled Brian to the bone.

“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Justin asked, reading Brian’s silent staring.

“It’s all right,” Brian said coolly. Justin smirked, knowing that for Brian this was an enormous compliment.

“Come on, let’s get a drink.”

One drink turned into five and by one o’clock, Brian was on the border of buzzed and tipsy while Justin was one shooter away from drunk. Justin had always been a lightweight though he denied it until he was blue in the face. But Brian felt better knowing that he was there to keep an eye on him. Still, he was concerned. It wasn’t like Justin to toss back shot after shot just for the sake of getting drunk.

Justin stumbled slightly away from the bar, and Brian was there to catch his arm and pull him onto the makeshift dance floor. He wrapped both of Justin’s almost limp arms around his neck and pulled him close as they moved to the music. Looking up at Brian from behind glassy eyes, Justin smiled.

“Having a good time?”

Brian tipped his head from side to side. “I suppose.”

Justin’s smile tripled in size. “I’m so glad that you’re here, Brian. God, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

Removing one hand from Justin’s waist, his raked his fingers through his lover’s hair. “You too,” he admitted.

Justin’s forehead fell onto Brian’s shoulder and for a moment Brian thought he might have passed out. A few seconds later his head was up and his eyes were travelling around the room. Suddenly, they stopped when they caught the eyes of a somewhat attractive man across the room. He looked about Justin’s age. Muscular- but healthy muscular- not some steroid junkie. He had rich brown hair and green eyes that seemed to reflect the light in the room. The brunette stared at Justin, eyes locked, before Justin forced himself to look away.

“What? Who is that?”

“No one. Some guy. I don’t- it’s no one.” Justin was shaking as he removed his arms from around Brian’s neck. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“This is Hollywood, baby,” Justin said, not bothering or not able to look at Brian as he spoke to him. “Here we do caviar.”

Brian didn’t move as he watched Justin walk to a table not fifteen feet away. The boys sitting around it smiled and opened up a spot for him to sit down. Before he did, Brian could see through the small hole in the circle of people lines of coke neatly cut on mirrors. Brian wanted to grab Justin’s head away when he saw him stick the straw into his nose and suck the white powder up into his beautiful blonde head. It made him sick to see Justin like that; that’s not why he traveled three thousand miles to LA.

When Justin stood from the table and turned around, Brian was gone.  



	4. Confession

To Brian packing was like an art, something to be considered carefully and treated with the utmost delicacy. But right now, he couldn’t care less because he had never packed so fast in his life; not even when he was throwing a few things into his bag to escape from his house and his father to run to Mikey’s. His suitcase was lying open on the bed that Brian had barely had a chance to sit down on, much less fuck Justin into oblivion, which had been his original plan.

Brian felt sick to his stomach. The shameless display he had witnessed, the abuse that Justin’s beautiful, incredible, wonderful body was taking was beyond a tragedy. Never had Brian seen his young lover so out of control, and he never wanted to again.

When he heard the door to the pool house’s bedroom opening behind him, Brian didn’t bother turning around.

“Here... you... are,” Justin said, pausing between each simple word.

“Not for long,” Brian said coolly, not stopping his packing. He sloppily threw articles of clothing- unfolded- into the suitcase, which was now almost full.

“Whaddoyou… what do you mean?” Justin asked as he took a step forward and noticed the suitcase for the first time. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the Pitts,” Brian informed his intoxicated lover, who didn’t quite seem to understand.

“What do you mean?”

“Next flight out of here, I’m gone.”

“But you said you’d stay until-”

“I thought it was because you needed me here!” Brian said, surprised by his own angry outburst. “I didn’t travel three thousand fucking miles to watch you be a little coke slut. It’s embarrassing.”

“But-”

“But nothing, Justin. If you want to make a fool of yourself, do it while I’m not here, which should be within the next few hours.” Brian slammed close his luggage and locked it shut. “Have a great fucking time.”

“Please don’t,” Justin begged. Tears welled in his eyes as he clutched at Brian’s arm, which he grabbed away.

“No. You don’t start with this fucking crying shit again. It’s not going to work this time.”

Forcing himself to sober, Justin cried, “I need you here! I really, really do!”

“For what? Christ, Justin, you won’t even tell me what’s wrong. What can I possibly do here?”

“I want to tell you, but I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know how. Because I’m scared to tell you.”

“Scared? Of what? Of me?”

Justin shook his head. He was still crying, but his voice was controlled. “No. That you’ll leave me. Really leave me.”

Brian wanted to tell him that he was the one who left, but he was too busy feeling hurt that Justin would jump to such a conclusion.

“Why would you think that? Damn it, Justin, I don’t even know what’s going on.”

Taking a deep, rattling breath, Justin prepared to tell Brian. “A few nights ago, I was at a party, and I met this guy-”

“Was it the guy from Brett’s? The one staring you down while we were dancing?”

Justin nodded and went on. “Yeah. So I met him at this party and I was drunk, and horny, and I missed you... God, I missed you so much. I feel so stupid now because I usually don’t bottom for anyone but you. But I wanted him to be you, Brian. I wanted to pretend it was you fucking me.”

“All right, so what happened?”

“I brought him back here, and fucked me.”

“Were you safe?”

“Of course I was safe!” Justin yelled, offended. “Fuck. I didn’t want to tell you like this.”

“Tell me what, Justin? Whatever it is, just say it already!”

“So after we finished, and he pulled out, he told me- Oh God,” tears took Justin over as he forced the words from his lips. “He told me that the condom broke.”

Brian felt his heart stop as the pit of his stomach sunk through the floor. He couldn’t swallow, he could barely breath when he gasped, “Don’t tell me-”

“He’s positive,” Justin told Brian through his sobs. His right hand flew up to his mouth as if he had uttered something dirty, offensive. Brian couldn’t believe that it was only two little words that were making him feel as if his entire world were crumbling around him.

“I have it,” Justin whispered. “I know I do.”

“You’ve been tested?” Brian asked, only because it seemed like the logical thing to do.

Shaking his head, Justin brought his hands up to his hair and gripped it tightly, as if he were holding himself up by his golden blonde locks.

“I haven’t yet, but I just know that I have it. I feel it.”

“You don’t know it,” Brian said helplessly, trying to convince himself that it was an impossibility. “You don’t know.”

At that moment Justin completely fell apart. His exhausted body collapsed onto his knees as he gasped for air between sobs. His face was paper white, making his bloodshot red eyes stand out against his pallid skin. When he could no longer look at Brian, he buried his face in his hands and cried hysterically. Slowly, Brian approached him and knelt down on the floor in front of his broken lover. Justin melted in place in Brian’s arms as he folded Justin into a tight embrace. It was all that he could think to do.  



	5. Timing

The next morning Brian showered and brushed his teeth and washed his face as if everything were okay.  His body suffered from an intense exhaustion caused by the impossibility of sleep.  When he had drifted off at about four in the morning, he was bombarded by nightmares.  


 

Justin sick.  


 

Justin hurt.  


 

Justin dying.  


 

Justin dead.  


 

In every variation of the dream, Brian blamed himself.  Afterward, he forced himself to stay awake.   


 

Justin, on the other hand, passed out half an hour after his meltdown.  He got up at three thirty to run to the bathroom and vomit; Brian watched from the door.  He seemed to have things under control when he stumbled back into bed five minutes later.  


 

When Brian returned from the bathroom, he found Justin sitting on the edge of the bed.  His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles underneath them.  His usually full, pink lips were dry and cracked.  


 

“You’re up.”  Brian didn’t move after stepping over the threshold.  


 

“You noticed,” Justin said with an awkward, uncomfortable laugh.  


 

“Sleep all right?”  


 

Justin raised his brow.  “Do you really need to ask?”  Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at the results with disgust.  “Did I get up to puke in the middle of the night or am I imagining it?”  


 

“No.  You puked.”  


 

“Oh.  Sorry about that.”  


 

“It’s okay.  You made it to the toilet at least.”  Brian played with the strings of his sweat pants and forced himself to look at Justin.  


 

“Okay, well, I’m sorry about everything else then.  That wasn’t me last night... I’m not usually like that.  I was just-”  


 

“Scared.”  


 

“Exactly.”  


 

Finding that he finally had the courage and the will to move, Brian walked to the bed and sat down next to Justin.  


 

“So... do you... snort coke often?”  


 

Justin chuckled.  Brian tried to find how that question could be construed as funny.  


 

“No.  I don’t.”  


 

“How many times?”  


 

“Twice.  Only twice.”  


 

“So you chose last night to do it?  You couldn’t wait until I was out of town?”  Brian didn’t know how else to tell Justin that he hated seeing him like that.  


 

“I think you can imagine why I...” There was no good way to finish that sentence, so Justin didn’t bother trying.  


 

“It’s just that I’ve seen you plastered before, Justin, but I’ve never seen you like that.  It was... it was kind of-”  


 

“Scary.”  


 

“Yeah.”  


 

“So are we just going to skirt around the fact that I told you I might be HIV positive until you leave or are we going to deal with it?”  


 

“What do you want me to say, Justin?”  Brian asked, his hands flying out limply, helplessly in front of him.  “I mean, what can I say?”  


 

“Well, you could start with what you’re thinking.  How you feel, perhaps.”  


 

“I don’t think I’m sure yet.  I’m thinking you should get tested.”  


 

Justin’s head fell forward, and he sighed heavily.  “There’s no point.”  


 

“What?”  


 

“I just mean that there’s no point yet.  There’s at least- at least- a six week incubation period.  I don’t want to go in tomorrow and have them tell me I’m fine to come back in three months and have them tell me I got it.  I don’t think I could handle that.”  


 

“Justin, I don’t think-”  


 

“Look, there’s nothing they could do between now and six weeks from now that would make a whole lot of difference.”  


 

Brian dropped it; he could tell from Justin’s tone that further discussion or debate over the matter would get him nowhere.  At least for now.  He didn’t think that it was healthy for Justin to spend the next six weeks unsure of whether or not he was positive, and Brian knew that he couldn’t handle it, wondering constantly if Justin had it- if Justin could give it to him- if he had failed once again to protect Justin.  


 

Brian sighed his defeat.  “Fine,” he said with a shrug.  “I’m just- you know- concerned.”  


 

Justin’s head fell into his hands.  “I feel like such an idiot.  How could I have let this happen to myself?”  


 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Brian assured him, though he wasn’t sure of it himself.  “You used a condom, it’s not your fault that he didn’t tell you he was positive.”  


 

“Yeah, but who knows if that would have even stopped me.  I mean, what if-”  


 

“Don’t do that.”  


 

Justin looked up at Brian.  “Do what?”  


 

“The what if game.  What happened happened, and you can’t do anything to change it now except be a man and deal with it.”  


 

Nodding hesitantly, Justin gave Brian a half-smile.  “I’m really glad that you’re here.”  


 

Brian raked his fingers from the base of Justin’s neck up through his hair and stopped on the back of his head.  Pulling Justin’s face closer, he kissed his forehead.  He wanted to tell Justin how scared he was, how in the moment when his lips made contact with his lover’s flush, warm skin, he wanted to break down and cry.  How in one night his life had spun completely out of control.  How hearing that Justin might be positive was ten times worse than finding out he had a lump in his nut.  


 

But Brian figured that probably wouldn’t do much to better the situation.  


 

“I’m glad that I can be here.”  What the fuck did that even mean?  


 

Justin smiled and toyed with the material of Brian’s pants.  


 

“Would this be a bad time to tell you that I’ve missed you?”  


 

Justin’s eyes met Brian’s before he had enough reaction time to move his head, which he shook slowly.  “There’s never a bad time for that.”  


 

“Good.  I’ve missed you.  Intensely.  Seeing you has made that even clearer to me.  Even when your head is in the toilet.”  


 

Justin choked a laugh.  The first genuine one since Brian’s arrival.  “Speaking of which, I’m gonna go brush my teeth and shower.”  


 

Even though he had already showered, Brian was tempted to offer to hop in with Justin.  But when he realized that this normally led to marathon fucking, he decided against it.  This made him sick to his stomach.  


 

“That sounds like a good idea.”  


 

When Brian was sure that Justin was in the shower, he stepped outside onto the patio, lit a cigarette, and cried quietly.  He watched the white stick turning to black and gray ash with every drag, and a million metaphors popped into his head about Justin’s mortality and his own.  What it all meant, he wasn’t sure, except for that he was a huge drama queen.  But that he already knew.   


 

When he saw through the window that Justin was back in the bedroom, Brian dropped his cigarette and stubbed it out with his heel.  He wiped away the tears on his face and took a few long, deep breaths, trying to rid himself of any evidence that he had been crying.  But he knew the second that he walked back inside that Justin saw right through him.  


 

“What’s the matter?”  


 

Brian shook his head.  “Nothing.  I’m fine.”  


 

“You’re lying.”  


 

“I know.”  



End file.
